The Most Awkward Love Note Ever Written
by promise.me.forever
Summary: During free period detention, Troy writes a very awkward and...different type of letter to Gabriella declaring his love. Gabriella's response up. [TwoShot][Completed]
1. He Confesses

A/N: Yes, I know. Another oneshot. But I did tell you to expect them, right? Haha. Well, here's my stab and pathetic try at a humor genre. I got inspired from a fic comparable to this; but it was in a different category outside of high school musical, and I decided to do a little spin on it; make it my own type of thing. A little weird and cheesy, but I hope you enjoy, because I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical

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_Gabriella,_

_You know, I've never been really great at writing. Not so much. English was never my best subject. I think you know this though, after helping me clean out my locker and seeing my not-so-well grades. (Oh, and by the way, I desperately need to clean that out again. Empty Snapple cans plus candy bar wrappers equals smelly locker; which equals a long lecture from Miss Darbus who so conveniently cat-walked by before fourth period.) _

_So why am I doing this? Why am I writing this completely insane and crazy letter? Well, you see, I've never been really good with saying honest things to people, or confessing my feelings. Which is why I'm writing this. To confess my feelings. In a letter. Crazy and utterly stupid, I know. But you see, I need to get this out. Somehow. And it just so happens that after the long lecture from Miss Darbus about locker cleanliness, she gave me detention during free period. So having nothing else to do, I've finally decided to write this letter, which no doubly is the most awkward thing ever. _

_And you're probably getting impatient, because you just really want to know what the whole point of this dim-witted letter is. But that's a shame, Gabriella. Because if I know you, and I like to think that I do, I have an understanding you like to read? So you know, if you were to just skim this whole paragraph down and try to get to the good part…that wouldn't do so much for your character, now would it? So anyway, please don't skip to the bottom. Because then that would be completely useless for me to write this…and then I would have wasted a full period where I could have been effectively staring at my algebra II worksheet, with enriched vocabulary and twelve problems. _

_Anyway, moving on. I don't really know how to say this…but I'll try. The thing is…well…you amaze me? I really don't know how to say it; it's nothing I can really explain in words, much less in a discomfited letter with no meaning. So, let me start from the beginning. _

_Do you remember last week? Well, of course you probably do, and you perhaps are wondering what it has to do with this letter. Let me give you more depth on that statement. Do you remember last Tuesday during lunch, when Evan Finch gave you back your chemistry notes and thanked you by walking you to your next class? You know, the class that I walk you to everyday after lunch? _

_Please don't laugh. _

_But I'm assuming that you recall this memory? Yes…well, how can I say this? Let's just say this small, sweet, innocent act caused me to experience something I'd never felt before. And let's just say, (for argument's sake of course) that this feeling was jealously. Why would I be feeling this way? What would cause me, of all people, to feel jealously? I mean first off, it's Evan Finch. Can you believe that? I was (almost, of course) jealous of a guy who's last name was Finch. And I knew you better; had a better relationship with you, so why would I be jealous? _

_Another thing. It seems whenever you walk into the room, this weird, unexplainable feeling seems to over wash my body. It's different from any other feeling; I can't really elaborate on it. It's this abnormal, 'heart lifting' (Don't ask, my mom told me that. And yes, I did ask her for help on this subject. You see, that's how sad this situation has gotten. But anyway...) feeling in the pit of my stomach. And then my hands proceed to get clammy and cold and I just can't think…straight. When I'm around you, anyway. It's like my words get all tangled up into one big bunch; and they can't seem to get straightened out until you're gone. This is another reason why I'm writing this; because I can't tell it to your face. _

_So, before I get sidetracked, you remember that time with Evan Finch, yes? Well, I think it would be fair to say that it took Chad, Jason and a plate of Zeke's extraordinary cookies to calm me down. That sounds absolutely pathetic, I know. Good thing that I'm the only one stuck in this detention, because I know Chad would be probably reading this over my shoulder and laughing. And then he would probably make me read it out loud…which could seriously harm me in ways that would be too long to write down. Not that I won't have to endure his wrath later for missing free period work out. And when and if he finds out I wrote this letter, I'll then be fried even more. But I'm not worried about that; in fact that's the least of my worries. _

_So, moving on.. _

_It would be entirely insane to go crazy over your boyish-friends; especially if it's something so innocent like copying notes and doing an entirely childlike and platonic gesture by walking you to class. But it's the truth. And I think I've come to a reasonable conclusion as to why I'm feeling this way._

_But…erm...you see, it's not the easiest thing for me to write down. Or say. Because, well, I've never really experienced it before. And it's something I've only really said to my parents. But don't worry, that's for an entirely different reason. And to be honest, I'm having a lot more trouble with this than I thought I would. If you hadn't noticed that already, obviously. I've probably wasted half of this piece of loose-leaf babbling about stupid and unnecessary things; distracting myself from the real point of the message here. Maybe now you're thinking, 'what could 'playmaker, wildcat superstar' be possibly worried and terribly nervous about saying?' (Or writing, in this case.)_

_Well, in the end, I think I've found that's really too important and significant to just write down, or put in plain words on paper. But, I think the point of this whole, babbling and tongue-tied letter is that, Gabriella, I like you. Incalculably. (See, I can use big words. And that one related to math. So that's like, double points for me right there. Maybe that algebra II worksheet was useful after all…) But more than a friend…you know what I mean? And this is most likely the corniest, uncoordinated note ever written, but that's okay. Because I think you get what I'm trying to say. And if you don't…then maybe you're not as smart as I think you are. _

_Just kidding. _

_So, to wrap up this intolerably written note, I think I'll just leave a few sentences summing up this whole disaster on paper. Since I had simply no other way of telling you this in person, or any other way for that matter, (because if I had a better way that I could manage, I would've done it. But no, you're stuck with this mushy letter. My condolences.) I wrote this letter during free period, though it's not really free, because I can't really do anything. Well, actually, no. I lied. I could have listened to Miss Darbus drain on about the theatre and 'musicale' productions she's put on in the past, but I chose to write this incredibly pointless letter to you instead, expressing my feelings. _

_Before Miss Darbus catches me, I better finish this up. But prior to ending this, please don't ask me to explain it after you read it, because, well, I can't really. If you do, you'll just end up with a rambling and incomprehensible reason that won't be able to comprehend in any way, even for a scholar much like yourself. So with all this in mind, I hope you don't mind the utterly distracting points of the letter, and understand that I had completely no other way to explain this to you. And I think Miss Darbus is reading over my shoulder right now…yes, she is. _

_She says hi, and that 'I shouldn't have wasted my time writing this and should have written an essay on locker cleanliness instead; putting my time to good use.' _

_But since when do we ever listen to Miss Darbus?_

_-Troy_


	2. She Admits

A/N: Some people requested Gabriella's response, so I decided to write up one. It might not be very good, but hey, I tried. Gabriella might be a little OOC, so I apologize.

Disclamier: I don't own itttttttt.

_Troy, _

_Well, I got your letter. Obviously. I think running up to me in the hall and screaming, "TAKE THIS AND READ IT ALONE!" and then shoving it in my hands, while proceeding to scurry off in the opposite direction would make it pretty clear that I had gotten it. _

_Because if I didn't, then I don't think I would be replying. In fact, I even thought about not replying. I seriously considered talking to your actual face; but then I remembered what you said at the end of your…er…correspondence. So I decided not to, and to reply in a letter also. Cause, then you know, to not reply at all, would just be rude. And I like to think that I'm not rude. _

_Am I?_

_Cause you can tell me, you know. And then I'll just have to work on that. _

_But, anyway, I'm in the middle of calculus at the moment. I know, I know, the 'brain', freaky math girl is writing a letter back instead of taking notes. Extraordinary, isn't it? But I felt that I needed to write this now, instead of later. Because who knows, by then, I could have forgotten everything I had wanted to write. And then that wouldn't have been very good, now would it? But, I have a not-taking-notes plan. It's simple; slump into my chair in the back and write this correspondence, while I get my notes from Taylor later. Not that she'll give them to me without asking a billion questions or putting up a fight. _

_You're lucky you're my friend, Bolton. _

_Anywho, first up. Your writing. Well, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Some people just aren't writers. And, well, it seems that you're one of those people. And it's quite all right, really. But I'm glad you warned me ahead of time. Because I really wasn't prepared for what you were going to proceed to put in writing; but in all I'm glad you did, for reasons you shall find out later. _

_As for Darbus and your locker; well, I can't really say anything on that topic, except that you should really consider hiring a professional team to clean that out. Or spray it with Lysol or some other strong, killing-germ cleaner. Because you know, if you don't, then you have bugs, bad aromas, staring bystanders…a lot of other things that you just don't want to be affiliated with. _

_And don't worry, Troy, a lot of people have that problem. Smelly lockers, that is. Honestly, did you see Jesse Monson's? His is next to mine, and it reeks of something I don't even want identified. But, moving away from this topic of conversation..._

_Oh, and don't fret; my character is in tact, thank you very much. __I didn't skip down to the last paragraph to find out what it was that you wanted to get across. If at all, I was shocked you thought I would do such a thing! I mean, I'm not Chad, Troy. I at least have some decency. _

_Now, for that algebra worksheet that you mentioned._

_I have to say I'm a little let down. I could've sworn we went over formulas at least twenty times on Tuesday at your house. The gesture of you writing a letter to me instead is really sweet and caring; but you know, the freaky math girl part of me comes out somewhere. So, are you not getting the algebra because of me? Maybe we should get Taylor to teach you instead…maybe she'll do a better job at it than me. Or we'll just have to work extra hard and long at it. _

…_Okay, not quite what I meant. Ignore that._

_Aww, Troy, are you trying to say you were jealous? I know you said not to laugh…but gosh, Troy. Evan Finch? I wouldn't lose sleep over Evan, Bolton. Though I am proud of you for admitting that you were jealous, he's just a friend. The thought of me and him…no. I don't think he's really my type. He's nice and caring, but he likes Georgina Woods. As a matter of fact, he was asking me to see if she liked him when we were walking to class that day. And besides, I already have feelings for someone. _

_Now, I suppose you want me to be all easy going and tell you who that is?_

_Ha! Nice try, Bolton._

_Although people say that I am overly nice and have no backbone, this is not one of those times. You're just going to have to wait. And before you read the next paragraph, I just want to make sure that we're the only ones who know about these…letters. Because if I make a complete fool out of myself with the next few paragraphs, and it turns out that Chad, Jason and everyone else has read them, then that could end badly. Trust me, you do not want to see me extremely irate and have a pair of pliers. Ask Taylor. _

_Not to seem intimidating or anything. _

_So, if you made it this far down, then you're the only one reading this. Good. Because, well, I've never really been good at expressing my feelings either. But f__irst off, I just want to say that I was really touched that you wrote me such a letter. Sure, you were right, it was rather awkward and...sort of cheesy, in a way, but I think I got what you mean. Or, at least I hope I got what you mean. _

_But…from what I could gather from your letter…are you trying to say you love me?_

_And if that statement is completely off, I apologize. But, truthfully, it's really what I got. The jealously, your other feelings, the 'I like you. Incalculably.' (Which by the way, is indeed a math word, so I'll let the algebra thing from earlier slide) is really what made me come to that conclusion. And like I said…if it's off, then you can just stop reading this as I continue to make a complete fool out of myself._

_And you know, if that's what you were trying to say…then I guess I have to tell you my feelings now. But you see, I don't really know how to say it either. Because, well, as you know, I'm the freaky math girl. Guys weren't exactly tackling over each other to go out with me. So I'm not used to this type of stuff. _

_But what I guess I'm trying to say is…I love you too. _

_There. Happy? I admitted my feelings on a piece of paper, while not paying attention to my very hard math class. And before I go, maybe we should, you know, meet somewhere and talk about this? Just for formalities, you know. Because if we didn't, then that would just be plain awkward, don't you think? I can just picture it now: _

You: Hey, Gabriella

_-Insert pause here-_

_Me: Oh, hi Troy._

_-Insert longer pause here- _

_You: Uhm…so what's up?_

_And it goes on…trying to ignore the fact that we both wrote letters 'confessing' our feelings and pretending that it never happened. That would just be a bummer, because we would be stuck in this awkward limbo thing that no one wants to be stuck in. And not to mention all the trees that we used to write these...notes. But luckily, I told you to meet me at the roof top, in about five minutes when class ends. Ha! Little did you know you would be receiving this…er…letter and going to be talking about it. _

_So, I'm going to wrap this up now, because my calculus notes are probably way to far behind than where they should be. And Mr. Matthews is looking at me strangely. Which probably means he's catching on to me and my not-taking-notes plan. So this is me, Gabriella Montez signing off. _

_I always wanted to say that. _

_-Gabriella_


End file.
